


Brand new pair of wings

by bannanachan



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:43:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bannanachan/pseuds/bannanachan
Summary: ... and then I finished two fics in two days because I was sick and inspiration strikes sometimes.Thanks toblooper-boyfor beta'ing.Title is from "Brand new pair of wings" by the Weepies.





	

Naoto doesn’t really remember getting home that afternoon. Someone – Yukiko? – had walked them home, through their protests that it wasn’t necessary. She had stayed while they had called the cops to inform them they were safe, stayed long enough to help them answer Dojima and Adachi’s questions and then shooed the two detectives out the door with demands that they “Let him get some rest, sheesh!” Everything else about the evening is pretty fuzzy, but they must have gotten into bed at some point. Their sleep is deep and yet fitful, punctuated by nightmares of shadows, laboratories, shame and self-hatred laid bare for the world (or at least Inaba) to see.

The next day, when they wake up, the clock informs them that it is already 11. They cannot remember the last time that they woke up later than 7 AM, even on a weekend. They have never needed an alarm. They throw the blanket off and sit up rapidly, only to fall immediately back down, a wave of pain, nausea, and dizziness hitting them all at once. When next they try to get up, they take it slower. The ill feelings still come, but they don’t overwhelm, and Naoto is able to make it all the way to their feet.

They make their way to the bathroom very, very slowly, bracing hands against the wall on their way in case they start to fall again. They deftly avoid looking in the mirror as they grab the mug from beside their sink and fill it with tap water, not ready yet to see their own face staring back. There’s a bottle of over the counter pain medicine on the floating shelf, and they grab it. They consider taking more than the recommended dose – their head is still _pounding_ – but their sensible side wins out on the basis that the adverse effects possible outrank those of a persistent headache – and that there’s no telling how long it might be before someone found out.

They practically crawl their way back to the futon, settling down with the blanket draped around their shoulders and turning the TV on. They are not surprised to see their own name on the news, nor surprised to see the quantity of missed calls and texts that light up their phone when they finally get the courage to turn it on. It’s a mixed bag – Dojima, a TV station, another TV station, Dojima again, another TV station, and buried somewhere in all of it a single text from an unknown number: _“feeling better today? – narukami yu”_

They shut their phone, turn off the TV, and bury their head in their futon again. The outside world can wait a few more hours.

They are unsure how much time passes between then and when they next wake, this time due to an excessive quantity of rapping at their door. They check their phone: new messages, but none particularly urgent. They are about to roll over and go back to sleep in hopes that the intruder will leave when the knocking ceases, replaced by a voice.

“Shirogane-kun? Are you – are you in there? Amagi-senpai said this was the address. Shit, are you – are you okay? Senpai said you didn’t respond to his text and like, that’s cool, but uh… knock – knock back if you’re okay!”

Sluggish, their mind matches up the words and tone with a person. Kanji Tatsumi? The boy they’d been tailing before his own kidnapping. He had seemed especially worried yesterday, come to think of it. Realizing that they haven’t responded, and that Kanji Tatsumi could almost certainly break down their door if he was worried enough, they quickly rap their fist on the floor twice.

“Oh, thank God.” Says the voice outside their door, and they giggle quietly at the boy’s audible relief. “Can you – can you come to the door? You can – you can come to the door right?”

The renewed note of concern in his voice makes them sigh. “Yes, Tatsumi-kun, I can come to the door. A moment, please.”

“Oh. Okay.” He says.

Naoto takes more than a moment to rouse themselves once more from their futon, muscles still aching, vision still swimming when they move too fast. They can’t remember an illness ever causing them to feel this bad before. They thought about seeing a physician, but are almost certain all they could do was treat symptoms at best. Besides, Nakamura’s investigation team all seemed to recover fairly quickly after the first 24 hours. Hopefully they would do the same.

Kanji is standing awkwardly in the direct center of the door frame when they open the door, feet planted firmly shoulder width apart with a plastic bag hanging from his clasped hands. His eyes widen when he looks at them, and Naoto raises their eyebrows.

“I look that bad, huh?” They ask.

Kanji immediately flushes bright red. “No! I was – I just – are you okay?”

“I’m fine. What brings you here, Tatsumi-kun?”

“You can call me Kanji.” He says. “I brought you something.” He gestures with the bag still clasped between his hands. “Can I – can I come in?”

Naoto steps aside. “Please. Be my guest.”

He enters the apartment and maneuvers past her to the kitchenette, setting the plastic bag on the countertop and removing items one by one. It takes them a second to realize they’re bento boxes.

He picks one up and holds it out to them. “Here. Take this one.”

Dumbfounded, they take the proffered box and crack the lid. “Rice porridge?”

“Ma made it, not me, so don’t worry.” Kanji says. “She made all these ones too, only they’re all frozen and dried and stuff so you can heat ‘em up in the microwave or use hot water. The porridge’s what she made for me after it happened to me, though, so it’s fresh, should still be warm.”

Naoto opens the lid completely and finds the rice steaming. “It is.”

“D’you have green onion in here?” Kanji asks, already stacking the other bento into the freezer. “It’s good with green onion on it. Or tea? I can make you some.”

Naoto looks up from the food. “… Why?”

“Huh?” He finishes putting the food away and closes the door. “Uh, well – for you to eat?”

“No, I mean – why did you bring it?”

“Oh.” Kanji blushes. “Well, it’s just – after it happened to me, I was super wiped out. My Ma took real good care of me for a couple days. But I realized that you might not have anyone to take care of you, so – I just figured I should help. Woulda been here sooner, ‘cept I can’t skip school any more if I don’t wanna get held back.”

Naoto is silent, and Kanji blushes further, spreading from his cheeks to his ears. “You gonna eat it before it gets cold?” He mumbles.

“Oh.” Naoto says. “Sorry, just let me –”

They step into the kitchen, but stumble, head suddenly spinning. The movement is too fast, too heavy – they should have thought, should have moved more slowly. They are only a moment from falling to the ground when steady arms reach out, one hand catching them by the waist, the other snatching the bento box carefully out of their hand.

“Woah, woah, okay.” Kanji says, voice low and surprisingly calm. “Let’s get you down somewhere safer, huh?”

Before Naoto can say anything, he’s gently steering them back around the corner to the main part of the apartment. He sits them carefully down at the low table in the center of the room. “There we go, that’s better. Lemme bring you that food, okay? You just sit here.”

Naoto opens their mouth, fully intending to say that there’s no need, but finds themself forming different words instead. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, well – don’t mention it.” Kanji mutters, standing. A few moments later, he returns with the bento, setting it down in front of them along with a spoon (how did he even find the silverware?) and sitting across from them.

Naoto looks across the table and sees a look of intense worry on Kanji’s face. “I’m sorry.” They say.

The expression of concern on his face contorts into a mix of sadness and anger. “Just… eat.” He mutters, then as an afterthought, “Please.”

They do. The porridge is delicious, hot, and plainly flavored. Exactly what they needed, under the circumstances.

“You gotta quit worrying us like that.” Kanji mutters, when they’ve nearly finished the food. They look up at him and find his earlier expression has resolved back into concern. He’s also turned pink to his ears again. “Do you have – family? Anyone around here?”

They shake their head, which is a bad decision, but they don’t let the resulting dizziness show. “The Shirogane estate – my grandfather – is far from here. I’m used to being alone, when I’m on a case. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Well, that sucks.” Kanji replies. “Even if it don’t bother you. It’s important to have someone around to look out for you when you feel like shit. God, that world really does a number on you, huh?”

Naoto smirks by way of reply and sees Kanji relax just slightly, a smile forming at the corners of his mouth even as the rest of his face remains dense with worry. “It’ll probably get better soon.” He reassures them. “But I can – I mean, I could come over an’ check on you ‘till then if you want. Or someone else can! Don’t have to be me. Everyone on the Team – we all wanna help you out, Shirogane-kun. You don’t have to be alone any more. We’ve all got school, but in the afternoons. I’m sure any of them would be happy to keep you company.”

“Naoto.” They say.

He frowns. “Beg pardon?”

“You can call me Naoto.” They clarify. “I know that’s what you say with your friends, and I don’t mind. Call me Naoto.”

Kanji clears his throat. “N-naoto-kun it is then.” He stammers.

“I – appreciate the gesture.” Naoto replies. “But I suspect I’ll be fine in a day or two. Tell your mother thank you from me, though. Please. It’s… been a while since I ate anything homemade.”

“Okay.” He says. “Can I at least give you my number? You got Senpai’s, you can call him too – you can call any of us – but he’s usually got a lot going on. Just in case. Seriously, please, I’m gonna worry twice as much if you don’t take it.”

Naoto stares at the boy sitting across from them, and for a minute, how unpleasant they feel takes a back seat in their mind to how surreal this is. They had certainly expected it would be an adjustment, to have friends, to rely on people. They had been prepared for that – nervous perhaps. They just hadn’t expected to have to adjust so quickly.

“I’ll – get my phone.” They reply.

He eyes them warily as they stand and walk back over to their futon, clearly ready to burst into action and catch them should the need arise. They return with their phone and hand it to Kanji, who punches several numbers in and hands it back over with a mumbled “Thanks.”

Naoto has by now finished the bento, and they both glance at it before looking awkwardly at one another. “I can go.” Kanji says quickly. “If you want. You seem to be doin’ okay, and you should probably get some more rest. S’enough food to last you another couple days at least. Just promise you’ll call us if you need anything. Even if it’s only company.”

“I promise.” Naoto says. “Go home, Kanji-kun. I’ll be back at school soon.”

“Yeah.” He says, and stands up. Without them asking him to, he grabs the finished box and places it in their sink before walking to the doorway. “Okay. Seeya then, Naoto-kun.”

“Good bye.”

He closes the door behind him. Once they are relatively certain Kanji has left the vicinity of their door, they collapse back onto the floor, staring idly at the apartment ceiling. Physically, they were already feeling a bit better than they had when they first woke up that day. Mentally, they were aware that there was quite a bit more work to be done. But for now, they were happy to make their way back under the futon, make a few calls, and fall back asleep for a few hours. It was easier to do now, with dreams of secret laboratories, robots, and terror now supplemented, if not replaced, by dreams of a worried blonde teenager and firm but gentle hands holding them up.

**Author's Note:**

> ... and then I finished two fics in two days because I was sick and inspiration strikes sometimes.
> 
> Thanks to [blooper-boy](blooper-boy.tumblr.com) for beta'ing.
> 
> Title is from "Brand new pair of wings" by the Weepies.


End file.
